After a failed job in the Free Marches, Terra took what silvers left and shipped to Ferelden. Her only plan was to find a paying gig until she found another large-scale job; hoping for the best, she went to the Gawned Noble tavern to grab some local gossip and rub shoulders with Denerim’s esteemed nobles. Sadly, a lone mercenary did not attract the clientèle that were already bought out by other prominent mercenary groups. Even more unpleasant, the only types interested in her skills were gaudy nobles hoping to get their loincloths tattered, by means Terra did not feel compelled to address. At least, this early into her trip.

Late into her night, she unfortunately met a brash man named Ser Richter who only offered the chance of a job, after a private interview in an undisclosed location. Terra saw through his motives, and barked her disinterest as she guzzled only after her latest mead. Infuriated by her disapproval, Richter grabbed her arm and imposed his offer against her. In a matter of seconds, she returned his need for physical attention by breaking his arm and throwing him out of the tavern.

Fed up with her search, Terra sat at the bar to nurse the last of her drinks. As she lingered to debate just one more round, the tavern door flung open. To Terra’s dismay, not only did bandaged Ser Richter return, but brought his enraged wife and an assortment of city guards. It was last call.